Belt
by HillBot
Summary: Zoro is having a hard time keeping his pants up. Sanji attempts to help.


Title: Belt

Pairing: Zoro x Sanji

Disclaimer: Who here actually believes that Eiichiro Oda comes on here and posts yaoi fanfic? Anyone? No, didn't think so.

Warnings: I suck at proper use of commas and paragraph breaks so if something is wrong please tell me and I'll fix it.

"Shit!"

"Fuck!"

"Goddamnit Marimo, stop! You're only making it worse!"

"I'm just trying to help!"

"Just shut up and let me do this!"

Zoro's head thunked on the hard galley floor in frustration. The cook sat naked above him, straddling his hips, fingers working the knot of the make-shift belt tied around the green-haired man's waist. It was just a piece of rope he had found lying around in the hold. He cut it down to the appropriate length and had been using for a little over two weeks. He didn't care how ugly it may have looked, vanity wasn't really his style (he was a pirate not a beauty queen for Kami's sake). Besides, it was cheaper than buying a real belt so maybe Nami would give him some points for saving money.

"Shit, why do you tie this thing so tight? Is it a fuckin' chastity belt or something?"

"Shut up aho, just let a real man take care of this."

The kick to the head was so worth it.

Zoro reached blindly above his head until his fingers wrapped around a familiar hilt. He slid Wadou out, cut the rope and re-sheathed her in one fluid motion.

Finally, they could get down to business...

A few weeks later and Zoro was still wearing a rope-belt (a new one of course since the last one had been sliced beyond repair). They had just reached port a few hours ago and after wandering around town for a while (not lost!) he found a seedy looking tavern and planted himself at the bar.

He was halfway through his sixth stein when he felt a presence behind him. He swiveled the stool around to find Sanji standing with severel shopping bags hanging off his person, looking anywhere but the probably wanted Zoro to carry everything for him, as was usually the case.

"I'm not your pack-mule. Go find Usopp or something. He'll help you."

Zoro made to turn back to the bar when the sudden rustling of paper stopped him. Sanji had dropped all the bags to the ground, plunged his hand into one from a store where the blonde usually bought all his fancy shirts and suits. He stood, arm outstretched towards Zoro, holding a long black strip of leather. Zoro just stared at him. The cook shook his hand towards Zoro and something metal made a faint clinking sound. He realized the thing was for him so, warily, he accepted the proffered object.

It wasn't until he had it in his own hands that Zoro realized it was a belt, and an expensive belt at that. Real leather with a brand name imprinted on the inside that he couldn't even pronounce.

"The hell, cook? You know I can't afford this!"

Sanji was still avoiding his gaze and now Zoro was sure that was a blush on the cooks face. This was getting a little weird...

"I know." Sanji spoke for the first time since he entered the tavern. "It's for you. A gift. It'll just, you know, make everything easier or whatever..."

The man's face was definitely getting redder. Zoro grinned evilly.

"Make what easier, ero-cook?" Zoro asked loudly. "Getting into my pants? You know all you have to do is ask."

Zoro laughed as the flustered cook blushed even harder and spluttered a few unintelligible things before quickly snatching up all his bags and storming out of the building. The swordsman, still laughing, set his new belt on the bar and stood up to untie the rope holding up his pants.

Except the rope-belt wasn't going down without a fight. Zoro tugged and pulled and wondered why the fuck he kept tying the thing so tight. He struggled with the knot until his fingers were trapped in a very unfunny parody of Luffy's strange and unnatural ability to knot his fingers into a mess that looked much like the one Zoro was in now. Only, Luffy could slide out of it very easily whereas Zoro was stuck right where he was.

Zoro growled, becoming increasingly frustrated with the whole situation. Here he was standing in a bar with his hands tied to his pants. Why Zoro hadn't just cut the damn thing was beyond him. He was a swordsman for crying out loud! But now cutting the rope was not an option because his hands were definately not going anywhere soon.

Zoro flopped back into his seat and hoped the barteneder would give him a straw for his rum. He wondered, not for the first time, if life would be easier if he just stopped wearing pants.


End file.
